


Honey

by WrathoftheStag (Mwuahna)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Jack realizes he's in love with Bitty, M/M, Realization, sick/comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-08 21:07:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8862067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mwuahna/pseuds/WrathoftheStag
Summary: “You know what your uncle always says, ‘You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.’”
What was Jack thinking as he ran toward the Haus right after graduation?  A peek at Jack Zimmermann falling in love with Eric Bittle.  A love as sweet as honey.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Devereauxs_Disease](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devereauxs_Disease/gifts), [DisraeliGears](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisraeliGears/gifts), [victorine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/victorine/gifts).



“You know what your uncle always says, ‘You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.’”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, go say goodbye. You won’t be back here for some time, you know? If that’s what your heart is telling you, you should go… Go really say goodbye.”

Jack let the words his father said sink in, and then he knew exactly where he needed to be. Where he _wanted_ to be. 

“Oh.”

In that instant, Jack took off. He didn’t bother removing his graduation gown. He ran through the quad and straight toward the Haus. Immediately, moments the two had shared began to splatter across his mind. And Jack ran hard, spurred on by a single word. _Bitty_.

**+++**

The knots were what appeared first. Deep and unrelenting, churning and turning in the pit of Jack’s stomach. Then, it was a cold sweat at the base of his spine -- a cold that refused to leave, no matter how much he willed it. Anytime Bad Bob came to see him play, it was always the same. His anxiety would rear its head and continue to hang around even after the fact. Fucking fantastic.

Proud. He wanted to make his father proud, but what if he failed? _Crisse._ At least his mother wouldn’t be coming out this time around. It’s not that Jack didn’t want to see Alicia, but if he failed...well, no need to have them both be a witness to that.

«No, I want you to come papa, I swear,» Jack said and clutched his phone tightly. 

The cool breeze outside helped a bit, but only a bit. Jack swung his legs as he sat at the end of the loading dock. 

«You know my anxiety is going to be a problem no matter what. It's not you! Sorry, yeah, sorry. Okay. I have to go back.»

He ended the call and cradled his head in his hands as he tried to steady his breath. He hadn’t had a full-blown panic attack in a while, so at least Jack was thankful for that.

“Shit,” he muttered.

“Are you okay?”

He looked up and saw Bittle standing by the door. Bittle approached slowly and sat next to Jack. In his lap, a box of jock straps.

Bittle (in his very Bittle-way where he automatically makes himself at home no matter where he is, and then makes _you_ feel at home -- because somehow Bittle always sort of feels like home) began talking about pre-game jitters and how they happen to everyone. Jack could feel his stomach unclench as Bittle’s calming voice washed over him, like a warm bath -- as soothing as honey in a cup of hot tea.

“I should thank you for the checking clinics,” Bitty said as he crossed his legs, and smiled at Jack.

Jack took a deep breath and began to work his way out the dark tunnel he'd begun to fall into. He jumped off the loading dock and gave Bittle a hand. 

"Just promise me you won't crumple up into a ball at the center ice tonight and we're even." 

Jack offered his fist, in what seemed like an inadequate gesture somehow. He was glad and amazed he actually smiled. 

"A fist bump! I didn't know you did those," Bittle said as he joined fists with Jack. "Ha! You gotta work for them." 

_Not really. You don’t_ , Jack thought to himself as he began to walk inside and listened to Bits talk about any and everything -- animated, alive, and just...happy.

“Bittle, how about you try not to talk until the game starts,” Jack chirped and took a deep settling breath as they walked down the hall.

**+++**

“So how do you know how to make _tarte au sucre_?” Jack asked as he leaned against the counter and watched Bits roll out some dough. Jack glanced quickly at Bitty’s forearms flexing as they worked.

“Lord, it was a big to do. Really.” 

“Really?” Jack asked and instantly felt as though he had inconvenienced Bittle.

“Uh-huh. You see, there’s this magical thing called Google…”

Jack smirked -- a tiny thing -- and playfully shoved Bitty.

“It’s not that different from a transparent pie, honey,” Bitty replied as he gingerly picked up the crust and placed it in the pie tin. 

Jack froze, it was the first time Bits had called him honey. Sure, he’d throw honey around to pretty much everyone and their mother in the Haus -- but never Jack. And Jack... liked it. Very much.

In a somewhat delayed reaction, Bitty realized what he did because he looked up and cleared his throat. He exhaled softly and stared at his hands as he reached for the maple syrup.

“I just thought you’d enjoy a little bit of home,” Bitty said mostly to himself.

“Thanks, Bittle.”

**+++**

“So the Germans called it _Unternehmen Wacht am Rhein_ \-- which means Operation Watch on the Rhine.”

“Uh-huh,” Bitty replied, head on his hand as his eyes began to look heavier and heavier by the minute. 

“And the attack, which was a surprise, caught the allied forces completely off guard,” Jack continued.

“So it has nothing to do with dieting?” Bitty said with a smirk.

Jack blinked at him a few times.

“You know? Battle of the Bulge,” Bitty exclaimed.

Jack frowned, “Do you want my help or not, Bittle?”

Bitty rolled his eyes as he yawned, “Kidding! I was totally kidding, Jack.” 

“It’s past midnight, do you want to call it a night?” Jack said as he closed his notebook. Everyone else in the Haus was asleep as Jack and Bitty sat at the kitchen table and nursed an old cup of coffee.

“No, I’m okay if you’re okay,” Bitty said putting his head down on his textbook.

“We can keep going, Bittle. It’s fine.”

Jack got up and walked over to the microwave and pressed one minute. He watched as his mug rotated slowly and warmed up until the microwave beeped quietly. 

“You want me to heat up yours?” He asked. Jack turned around and saw Bittle zonked out on the kitchen table.

He approached, and watched Bittle sleep for a few moments. The deep and steady rising and lowering of his chest; his lips parted slightly. His face, nestled into his folded arms.

Jack felt his chest clench, and without even thinking about it, reached out and gently stroked Bittle’s hair. Bitty sighed, then jerked awake.

Jack quickly jumped back.

“Goodness gracious…” Bitty said, rubbing one eye. “Guess I dozed off. Shit.”

“You should go to bed. We can go over stuff tomorrow -- if you still need it,” Jack said as he hastily took a sip of his coffee.

“You comin’ up?” Bitty asked.

Jack shook his head, “Uh, I’ll finish my coffee first.”

Bitty shrugged, and stretched as he got up. “‘Night, Jack. Thanks.”

“Good night, Bittle.”

Jack watched Bittle go upstairs, stood and leaned against Betsy. He held his cup of coffee silently until it grew cold once again.

**+++**

“Now I know most of you have mamas that raised you right, so would anyone care to explain why this living room is basically a petri dish?”

“Bitty, it’s 9:00 in the morning,” Shitty groaned from the couch, where he lounged in his underwear, inexplicably wearing only one sock.

“Yes, and Holster is up -- Jack, too. So I don’t see why we can’t clean up before the morning gets out from under us.”

“Don’t get me mixed up in your crazy ass plans, Bitty,” Holster mumbled. He was on the living room floor, a game controller balanced on his chest as he played Halo.

“How is cleaning this room a crazy ass plan?”

Jack sat silently in the armchair, coffee cup in hand. Bitty looked at him for support. Jack shrugged and took a sip.

“Fine. Y’all need some motivation. And I’m about to give it to you! Come on, we’ll dance and clean and clean and dance. What do you say?”

“Bitty, go away, bro. Pie privileges be damned,” Holster whined.

"Yeah, I just want to sit here and marinate in the whatever filth is currently residing on this godforsaken shitastic couch,” Shitty piped in.

Bitty stood in the middle of the living room, hands on hips. He huffed, mumbled a “good lord,” and then left. Jack watched him exit, knowing full well Bitty wasn’t going to let this go.

A few minutes later, the living room became filled with the blaring first notes of Beyoncé’s _Crazy in Love_.

“The fuck?” Holster said as he lifted his head from the floor.

Jack held his coffee to his lips, the warm steam rising to his nose, as he heard Bitty sing along with Beyoncé, “You ready? Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh, no, no…”

Bitty jumped into the living room wearing the smallest denim shorts Jack had ever seen, and a white tank top. In one hand he held a mop, in the other a spray bottle cleanser. The final touch was a sponge (holding on for dear life) shoved into his back pocket.

“Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh, no, no,” Bitty undulated his hips and continued, “Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh, no, no.”

“Bitty, nooooo...” Shitty said as he covered his face with a pillow. “Fuck, this pillow reeks!” He called out from under it.

Bitty nodded vigorously, as he slapped his ass and dropped the sponge on top of Holster’s chest.

Jay-Z continued his rap intro as Bitty twirled the mop over his head. 

Jack gripped his coffee mug and felt his cheeks burn as Bitty tossed the mop off to the side. He dropped to the floor and crawled toward Jack and sang, “I look and stare so deep in your eyes, I touch on you more and more every time.”

Shitty laughed and whooped, “Yeah! Go, Bitty! Go, Bitty! You sing that!”

Bitty turned toward Shits and continued, “When you leave, I'm begging you not to go…” He laughed as Shitty flung a pillow at his head.

Jack sat as still as possible, but his mind was a riot. He could barely breathe, but by god he would not let a single thing show on his face. 

Holster clapped and cheered. 

Jack watched as Shits and Bitty sang together, Shitty swung his arms overhead and threw his head back; Bitty’s thighs apart, as he bounced up and down on his knees.

 _Crisse de câlisse de sacrament de tabarnak d’osti de ciboire._

“Fine,” Jack said as he slowly got out of the armchair. “I’ll get the vacuum.” 

He exited the living room, leaving Bitty on the floor as he heard him softly finished the chorus, “...got me looking so crazy in love.”

**+++**

“Bittle? You ready to go?”

There was no reply.

“Bittle?”

Jack opened Bittle’s door and stuck his head in. A weak groan came from Bitty’s bed. Jack approached and saw him rolled up into a tiny ball, face flushed and covered in sweat. 

The night before as the group chatted about their early morning trip to spend a day in NYC followed by a Rangers’ game, Bitty had gone to bed early saying he felt tired and had a headache. And sure enough, he looked terrible this morning.

“Are you okay?”

“No,” Bittle said, eyes still closed. “Good lord, I feel awful…”

Jack placed his hand on Bitty's forehead, it was boiling. 

“I should just sleep. Go on get out of here. I don’t want to get you sick, too,” Bittle said as he shivered.

In that instant, Jack’s instinct was to take care of Bittle -- make sure he was okay, make sure he felt looked after and safe. New York could wait. It would wait.

“I’ll tell the guys to go on.”

“Jack, you can’t do that.”

“ _Silencieux_ …” Jack whispered. “Yeah, I can.”

Bittle looked at Jack with red eyes, “Thanks, honey.” He smiled and closed them again.

The trip went on that morning without Bittle or Jack. And Jack was perfectly fine with that.

**+++**

“Brah, if we win tomorrow I get a lifetime supply of Zimmermann hugs! No questions!” Shitty yelled out as they exited the arena. 

Bitty stood alone, contemplating the ice at Faber and the empty space around him, enjoying the silence and tweeting about the looming excitement that the entire team would face.

Jack took in the scene. 

How tiny Bitty looked, but Bitty was anything but helpless or weak. Jack admired his fortitude, his unassuming strength -- his ability to take everything in stride, even if terrified. That made Eric Bittle stronger than most guys Jack knew.

Jack looked through the lens and focused his camera. He took four shots in rapid succession.

“You get that shot you wanted?” Shits asked.

“Yeah,” Jack said as he smiled and watched Bitty a few seconds longer. 

“Come on, Bittle.”

“Oh! Wait up!”

**+++**

“What are you watching?” Jack asked as he walked into darkened living room.

“Resident Possession,” Lardo replied as Ransom, Holster, Chowder, and Shitty stared intently at the screen. 

“It’s hella scary, so either sit your ass down and get scared with us or get out of the damn doorway. You’re freaking me out, bro,” Shitty said as he gripped the pillow he was hugged even tighter. 

Jack watched for a moment and then decided he would pass. Horror films didn’t help with his anxiety, so he was about to return to his room when Bittle ran past him and jumped onto the couch. 

“What did I miss?” he called, as he sat sideways and tucked his feet under Shitty’s butt to keep them warm. Shitty rubbed his ankles.

“That lawyer chick is going to check the closet -- even though the psychic told her that was the source of the evil. ‘Swawesome,” Chowder said.

Jack walked over to the couch and squeezed in next to Bitty. “Move over, Bittle.”

Bitty pulled his feet out from under Shitty, who protested, and made room for Jack.

Jack looked straight ahead at the television, but his mind was elsewhere. Sitting this close, he could smell Bittle; a concoction of cloves, maple, fresh laundry, and soap that was his own unique scent. It was a smell that Jack could pick out of a crowd. It was a smell he had unknowingly begun to associate with warmth and comfort and laughter.

A jump scare in the movie, caused Bitty to startle and turn his head into Jack’s shoulder. Jack held his breath, as Bitty pulled away. 

“Sorry,” Bitty whispered. “I hate scary movies.”

“So why are you watching?” Jack said as he leaned in closer, their shoulders pressed into one another.

Everyone shushed them as Lardo yelled out, “Keep it down or GTFO, people.”

Bitty said softly in Jack’s ear, “Because it’s fun.” His voice breathy and warm. Sugar and spice. Honey and sweetness. He quickly stroked Jack’s arm.

Jack watched as the downy hairs on Bittle legs were illuminated by the glow of the screen. His gaze traversed Bittle’s legs: toes, ankles, shins, knees, thighs, uh… _there_...

“I see,” Jack managed to croak out.

He looked at Bitty’s profile. He studied this bundle of sweetness who was gripped Jack’s forearm, eyes glued onto the screen.

“I’m not kidding!” Lardo yelled again.

**+++**

Jack arrived at the Haus, out of breath, and stopped to lean against the tree out front. He looked toward the Haus, most of the windows closed. Curtains taken down, blinds pulled up. He was afraid the house was empty. Jack took a deep breath and approached. 

_Just trust me, okay?_

_Dad, this is Eric Bittle… the one I told you about._

_Bittle, I’ve got your back._

_Oh and Bittle, before I forget, this summer? Eat more protein._

_I have no idea why you’re trusting me with this._

_I was thinking… since Bittle’s oven is broken. We should get him a new one._

When one finally realizes what they want, what they’ve been waiting for their entire life, they don’t want to wait any second longer. How could they? Why would they? Jack walked faster, and then began running up the stairs as he called out, “Bittle!”

Jack ran into Bitty’s room, “Bittle!” 

Bitty wasn’t there. He then heard a tiny sniff coming from the opposite direction. He turned and saw Bitty who stood with his back to Jack. He sang to himself and folded Chowder’s clothes.

“Bittle…”

Startled, he turned around, “Hello! Jack?” 

Bittle’s eyes were moist and filled with equal amounts sadness and surprise. It warmed Jack more than he could say seeing his precious boy like that. He didn’t have the words, how could he when this was truly the first time he felt anything like this. 

“Oh my goodness -- why are -- is everything all right?”

Jack walked up to Bitty, sweat trickled down the side of his face.

“You’re outta breath! You could have texted --”

“Bitty…” 

And after years of skating, passing, checking, and scoring, this next move was the hardest and bravest Jack Zimmermann had ever taken -- and it was also the easiest of his life.

He took Bittle, _his Bitty_ , by the shoulders and leaned in to press a kiss to his lips. Years of doubt and nerves and fear and ache melted away with this one kiss. This one precious kiss.

And the kiss? It was as sweet as honey.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [Devereauxs_Disease](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Devereauxs_Disease/works) and [DisraeliGears](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DisraeliGears) for getting me into _Check, Please!_ And to [Victorine](http://archiveofourown.org/users/victorine) whom I dragged down with me into this hockey rabbit hole.
> 
> Oh man, am I in love with this gorgeous comic. <3333
> 
> Come say hi to me [on Tumblr](http://wrathofthestag.tumblr.com/)!
> 
>  _Check, Please!_ characters created by the wonderful [Ngozi](http://omgcheckplease.tumblr.com/).


End file.
